Monday, April 21, 2014

As the second most populated island in the Galápagos, San Cristobal is a popular stop for travelers who have made their way to Darwin’s famous islands.

However, between the 5,400 permanent residents and numerous tourists visiting the island each year, there are multiple opportunities for quarantine regulations to be ignored. This allows new species of plants and animals to be introduced to the island every day.

While the Galápagos has some of the highest percentages of biodiversity in the world, introduction of new species to the island can wreck havoc to the islands’ ecosystem. This poses an especially big problem because a very high percentage of species (80% of birds, 97% of reptiles, more than 30% of plants and more than 20% of marine life) are exclusive to the Galapagos, and can be found nowhere else on earth.

In fact, introduction of new species by humans is directly correlated with the drastic decrease, and in some cases extinction, of different geneses of the famous giant tortoises found throughout the islands.

Many of the exotic species that threaten the island’s flora and fauna begin their rapid takeover through agriculture in the highlands of San Cristobal. Yet the highlands, although an essential aspect of the island’s delicate eco-system, have been almost completely ignored by other conservation and government agencies.

Luckily for San Cristóbal, Ecuador’s Jatun Sacha Foundation has a biological reserve deep in the highlands where volunteers come to make a difference. With their hard work in different areas of conservation, such as reforestation, Jatun’s Sacha’s volunteers are revitalizing the island from the ground up.

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

An image of an Antiguan street in Guatemala. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

Consider the image of an Antiguan street on a Saturday in Guatemala.

On one corner sits a native woman adorned in a wool shawl; the jewel-toned
design reflects the pattern indicative of her village, and the attire
advertises the similarly colored scarves she sells.

Across the cobblestone path stands an American tourist bending down to hand
a purple-clad Guatemalan girl 20 Quetzals. He takes the three handmade headbands
he bought, and then points to his camera, indicating he would like a photo of
her.

Blocking traffic, a bride and groom step out of a black waxed BMW in the
center of the street. A trail of bridesmaids and groomsmen parade in the
direction of the centuries-old Catholic Church.

Poor.Privileged. Unaware.

Heading into the last day of reporting in Guatemala, I opted to put down my
pen and focus on uninterrupted observation. Photos ceased toward the end of the
day, allowing the memories to burn into my mind.

Tourists and vendors flock to Antigua, a city built by the Mayans and
preserved by the money visitors pump in to the local shops. Looking
at the volcanoes surrounding the city, I thought about the people who shared
their stories with me throughout the week. Like the mountainous beasts with
which they share their home, the beauty of their faces contain the turmoil
bubbling within.

Corn tortillas for sale at a doorway in Antigua. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

Workers repair the roofs of Antigua to maintain its quality. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

One man, Miguel, I met on the curb beneath Antigua’s famous yellow clock
arch.

He sat in the quiet of the afternoon with his sun-kissed wrinkled fingers
curled around a pointed paintbrush. The palette balanced on his left knee held
blends of purples, reds and yellows. Words on his grey cotton shirt read “Old
Navy.”

Squatting to flip through his work displayed against the cement wall, I took
the moment to trace with my eyes each stenciled line slightly hidden beneath
brush strokes. Within the dried flecks lay an image of his home.

I didn’t notice the hand until it lifted the cardboard canvas away. Miguel
wanted to share his story with me. Smiling with each foreign word, he and I
treaded through a conversation mixed with Spanish and English.

Antigua has been his home since birth, he said. He has painted on the
streets in order to survive for the last 13 years.

But, unlike the artists across the street marketing prints masquerading as
originals, Miguel sells stories. In Spanish calligraphy, he wrote the history
of the arch in the painting I bought on the canvasback.

Miguel writing the history of the painting for me. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

Then he signed and dated, allowing the ink to bleed into the fibers like his
face burning into my memory.

Back in the United States, I will put Miguel’s painting next to the canvas I
collected from Cuba.

Each shows the faces of those I’ve traced; each shows the faces of those I
will soon outline.

Monday, March 24, 2014

This Guatemalan baby is recovering from malnutrition. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

He weighed 15 pounds at 18-months-old. Babies his age average 25 pounds.

Supporting the head of the malnourished Guatemalan child, I listened as his
caregivers explained the stinted start to his life. Children in Guatemala often
go without the proper diet for growth in their critical first few years; money
is too scarce.

Tears in her eyes, Hearts in Motion volunteer Janet Holloway asked one of
the nurses, “Will they be OK?”

Until the brain develops, only time will tell.

Nurses and volunteers at the HIM nutrition clinic provide a community center
for the local children in Gualan, Guatemala, so that the next generation can
receive help in the early days of development. Once a week, the center invites
about 100 children under the age of 12 in for a group meal.

Giggling at my camera as I held it up to take a photo, one boy cleared his
portion of watermelon, beans and rice. That plate of food may be the only he
receives that day.
﻿

Casey Leo, the HIM nutrition center coordinator, said many of the children
sitting at the handmade wooden tables live in families that cannot afford
balanced meals.

“Some kids arrive with food leftover from their lunch still on their mouth,
while others don’t get breakfast or dinner that day,” she said.

Casey has lived in Guatemala for five-and-a-half years working with HIM.
Accustomed to seeing the dire circumstances surrounding her home, she can focus
on teaching the children manners they likely would not learn at home.
﻿

Gualan children wait behind the gates for the weekly HIM feed. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

﻿

Local children line up to wash for their meal. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

Students and volunteers on the HIM trip helped line the children up to wash
their hands. Using a basin to pour bottled water over their hands, each
one took a turn scrubbing off the grime of the Gualan streets.
﻿

Children at the Zacapa HIM nutrition center wash before eating. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

Tables then filled as girls, boys, infants, and pre-teens took seats to wait
their turn. After a group prayer, each received their meal and a plastic cup brimming with rice milk.

Together they cleared and thanked the staff when the meal finished. The
process took under an hour, but each walked away full bellies and clean hands.

The final task for the week completed, the crew took the opportunity to pull
the children around in red wagons, rock the babies to sleep, and pass around a
coconut from the tree outside to try.

For me, I found a quiet spot to sit at the edge of the property.

Overlooking the valley below, I took pause to reflect as a human, not as a
journalist. The faces locked in my camera’s memory cards have real hardship in
their lives. They have stories, but they also are the story.

Volunteers who make trips like the HIM crew make a difference, but the
solution lies in cultural change. Economics, politics and opportunity all support
futures for children like the 100 who get to enter the wrought iron gates once
a week for a meal.

If he survives, the baby I held in my arms may someday build a life.

﻿

The HIM nutrition center in Gualan, Guatemala. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Jeremiah, 8, at the HIM physical therapy clinic in Zacapa. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

His eyes locked on the blue bag containing the sour gummy
worms. Unable to speak, he lifted his hands, clustered the fingers on each and
tapped the tips together.

“More.”

Jeremiah dangled the red worm between his teeth as his
mother applauded his first attempt at American Sign Language. At 8 years old,
he had never received testing for his hearing. When the speech and hearing
team from WSU noticed his unresponsive behavior, they took him to the HIM
clinic in Zacapa.

“The sign on the door says, ‘50 Quetzals, or see the boss,’”
HIM physical therapist Nancy Winiecki said. The cost, which equals about $6.50, "keeps the lights on, but
the physical therapy is more important.”

Paying with watermelons, mangoes, chickens, and hugs, Nancy’s
patients offer what they can in exchange for physical therapy sessions. HIM
helps her run one of the only clinics in the region. Patients needing the
treatments after surgeries and injuries would otherwise have to travel three hours to Guatemala City, a trek most can’t afford.

Lacking in medical knowledge, I had no inkling that Jeremiah
had a profound loss of hearing when he galloped toward me this morning. Only
his small hand in mine and toothy smile caught my attention.

“The reason deaf people put their ear to speakers is so they
can feel the vibration,” WSU speech and hearing student Hannah Bowley said.

Hannah helped teach Jeremiah the sign for “more,” and with
our Spanish translator, provided his mother with the information on how to keep
improving her son’s communication. She knew Jeremiah had trouble hearing, but
did not have the audiogram needed to enroll him into the local school for the
deaf.

Observing the evaluations with Dr. Amy Meredith, a
professor at WSU, I met mother after mother dedicated to helping their disabled
child regardless of the time and effort. Darwin, a young boy with cerebral palsy,
comes in to the clinic to strengthen his body and mind.

﻿

Darwin with his mom playing in the clinic. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

﻿

Having fought fires, observed operations and crouched in a
burning dump this week, I felt prepared for playing with children. But a
determined Darwin took me out when he climbed his ramp and pegged me in the
head with a foam yellow ball.

I believe the industry professionals call it combat
reporting.

﻿

Darwin moments after nailing me in the head with a ball. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

﻿

Flipping through my notepad with the Guatemalan blood-orange
sunset setting on the horizon, I stopped at an interview with an HIM volunteer,
Arlyn Buck. She is a Guatemalan native who grew up in the United States.

Her mother, she said, would fast at night just to feed her
children when they had no money. Her philosophy: Never forget your home and always
give back to those who most need a hand.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

A young Guatemalan woman in the hills of Zacapa. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

Face wrinkled with the lines of life, the Guatemalan mother cupped
her daughter’s face with her hands to whisper one word.

“Hermosa.” Beautiful.

Just seconds before, I had bent down between them to share
the photo I had captured of the woman’s daughter. Living with Down Syndrome,
the 35-year-old turned toward her mother as the creases along her eyes crinkled
with a smile.

It was the first time she had seen her own face.

﻿

Karen with HIM hugs a young woman waiting at the dental clinic. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

﻿

In a mountain village two hours from Zacapa, the
Hearts in Motion dental crew set up a triage clinic to pull teeth for the
locals on Tuesday. The team stood in the bed of barred-in pickup trucks to drive
an hour up the rocky road.

The Guatemalan woman who asked for the photo had arrived
that afternoon for help relieving her aching tooth. She and about 40 other
locals gathered at the shed, the largest building available for the doctors to
pull teeth.

Jumping from station to station, I noticed mouths of babies,
mouths of adults and mouths of the elderly all filled with rot. Age did not
seem to factor into the issue.

Dr. Steve Woodard, an oral surgeon from Spokane, Wash.,
explained that the Guatemalans put sugar in their water and eat a diet of
sugar-laden foods. Soda in the country is less expensive than water, and money
drives their decisions.

﻿

Dr. Steve Woodard with a patient. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

﻿

His first patient, a girl clutching a brown teddy bear,
opened her mouth to reveal four rotted teeth in the front of her top row. Dr.
Woodard pulled them all.

For the village the team visited today, corn is the primary source of food; corn contains a high percentage of natural sugar.

﻿

The triage dental clinic in the mountains. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

﻿

On the bus trip home, Dr. John Miller shared his experience as an oral surgeon volunteering in the
country.

“Those kids today didn’t even know why they were there,” he
said.

Dr. Miller narrowed the dental problem to four contributing
factors:

1. Low price of soda.

2. Limited access to dentistry.

3. Lack of education on proper hygiene.

4. No money for toothbrushes and
toothpaste.

The people do not have the resources to preserve their dental
hygiene. Those that have permanent teeth pulled have to rely on mushed or soft
food for nutrients the rest of their life. The doctors leave knowing they soothed
temporary pain.

But as Dr. Miller commented in reference to the shortcomings
of the dentists’ efforts, the economy and education system does not meet the
need.

Monday, March 17, 2014

A flame left from a fire Monday in Zacapa, Guatemala. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

Crouching in smoldering ash, I felt sweat pour down my face.
Smoke rose around my lens as the army soldier to my right pointed at my feet. The soles of my tennis shoes had started to melt.

Monday started when I branched off from the HIM crews and
tagged along with Spokane Fire Chief Bruce Holloway. He travels to Guatemala
with his wife to train local volunteer firefighters and military crews for the
worst.

Taking notes in my fold-down school chair, I expected to
spend the day following Bruce’s lectures at the station in Zacapa. But an emergency call summoned the fire crew, and the lesson went live.

The team prepares the fire hose. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

A field in the downtown region had caught fire and the
95-degree heat and wind fed the burn. Bruce said the Guatemalan people burn
trash, and often a spark will jump to the dry fields.

With only two donated fire engines and a few ambulances to
serve 65 communities, the team of volunteers and visiting Guatemalan army
members piled on with shovels and machetes. Scarred by the flames that had
nearly finished smoldering, the field where crops once stood now lay dead.

Bruce commanded the team to dig trenches and snuff
out lingering flames. In the brush, he stopped to tell me about the power of
changing winds.

All 37 pounds of 7-year-old Victor Ramirez twisted against
the nurses’ hold. In his anesthesia-hazed mind, the Guatemalan boy jerked out
of his IV drip as his face contorted in pain. Victor came in to Hearts in Motion’s temporary hospital for
surgery to fix his cleft palate. With the help of HIM volunteer doctor Ken
Stein, Victor will now have the ability to chew his food.

Watching the surgery in scrubs four sizes too big and with
my camera in hand, I realized I would not often get the opportunity to observe a working operating room. The next two hours became critical
for both me and the boy on the table.

Dr. Stein, a plastic surgeon from
Chicago, stitched sutures in the non-air conditioned 100-degree heat to help
Guatemalans like Victor who have disfigured lips and palates. Without the
surgery, the patients would continue to struggle with eating and breathing.

Victor Ramirez. Christine Rushton | Murrow College

Forced to mash meals between
their fingers and push what remains into their throat, patients often suffer malnutrition.

Before I met Victor, I shook
hands with a Guatemalan girl named Heidy Avalos who had successfully recovered
from her surgery four years ago. Her case was so advanced she had to travel to Spokane, Wash., to visit another HIM volunteer Dr. Mark Paxton.

Janet Holloway, Heidy’s host mom
in Spokane, said she remembers when Heidy stayed with them for her surgery.

“She would take a French fry,
smash it with her fingers, stuff it on the roof of her mouth, and swallow,”
Janet said.

For Heidy, the worst is over; for Victor, the recovery has just begun.

In post-operation, the nurses
shuffled Victor to his bed as they sterilized the 1940’s equipment they had to
borrow in the make-shift operating room. I followed, camera in hand, to better
understand what the children have to endure just to live. Hours later, shirts drenched in
sweat, supplies strewn about the hospital halls, the HIM volunteers set out for
the hotel. But before hitting the cobblestone streets, I stole one last glance
at Victor.

The photo I took of him by his
mother speaks more words than I can write.

Saturday, March 15, 2014

Squatting in a heap of rotting trash, I lifted my camera to
focus on a young Guatemala girl. She paused at my movement and tightly clutched
the treasure she had just found: a discarded, teal plastic bottle ring. Her
feet, bare and smeared with the black ash, rested on shards of broken glass and
decomposing fruit.

Christine Rushton | Murrow College

Against a background of people scouring, collecting and burning
garbage in the 95-degree weather, she looked into my lens and smiled.

The volunteers working with Hearts in Motion to bring
supplies and aid to the people in Guatemala know the need outweighs what the
team can offer. However, one student on the trip said if one life is changed,
then the trip was worth the effort.

Karen Scheeringa-Parra, the executive director of HIM, said,
“It’s not about the Tylenol, it’s about the relationship.” She explained that showing
people compassion lasts longer in memory than any medicine.

One HIM team on Saturday put together lunches of black bean
and rice sandwiches to bring for the families living in the dumps. The line of
Guatemalans following the buses they knew carried food stretched down the
plastic-lined road. For them, a meal usually consists of the leftovers they can
dig out of the city’s trash.

A veteran-volunteer for HIM looked out at the landscape and
asked me if I could write about this experience. He said photos tell only part
of the story; pictures can’t capture the smell.

Breathing in the aroma of putrid decomposition and burning
plastic, I shoved down the urge to cry. The Guatemalan girl still smiles despite
her unsanitary living conditions. As I watched her walk to put her new
discovery in the tarp-covered shelter she calls home, I realized that smile
reflected the hope to which she must cling.

Friday, March 14, 2014

As the world opens to welcome a global community,
journalists gain the opportunity to explore cultures beyond the limits of their
backyards. Foreign reporting has existed successfully since the days of Edward
R. Murrow reporting from London. However, students breaking into the industry
have to combat a dwindling availability of jobs. The Murrow College at WSU offered
me the chance to enter the embargoed borders of Cuba in May 2013, and now I venture
with Hearts in Motion to Guatemala. During my 10 days on the ground, I will
blog, interview the doctors and students performing surgeries on the locals and
report on the issues. Follow along as I pursue the visual and written long-form
journalism I hope to soon call my career.

Fire hung in a rim on the horizon. Tipped in blood red, the
wings of the airplane tilted in descent toward the valley’s mouth, noted for
the nearby volcanos. The ground drew closer; the flames climbed higher.

﻿﻿﻿﻿﻿

Christine Rushton | Murrow College

It was 5:30 a.m. on Friday and the plane leading toward
Guatemala City had just made the dawn-hour landing. Flat ground filled with
litter-strewn streets seemed to cower against the highlands surrounding the
city. With my group of students and professionals with Hearts in Motion (HIM),
we started the trek from the airport to Zacapa, the area in which we would
spend most of our time working on the medical mission trip.

About 19 HIM volunteers crammed in a bus meant for
12 for the three-hour journey. But one side-look at the Guatemalan public
transport with people hanging off the sides just to catch a ride, and I knew we
fit in. Just like when I traveled to Cuba, I put the peoples’ behavior in the
perspective of the limited resources upon which they must rely.

﻿

Christine Rushton | Murrow College

For one man, this meant hiding under a blanket in the back
of a truck.

I noticed the man as we headed out of Guatemala City. Truck
bed teaming with rubber tires, the brown-stained blanket set in the corner
rustled slightly. His head peeked out when he adjusted his position, but I’d
already witnessed the attempt to catch a free ride.

Heading into a week of observing people support solutions to medical, construction,
dental, or social problems Guatemalans face, I know this man isn’t the last I
will see take a dangerous chance. As I learned in Cuba and will continue to
learn in Guatemala, people in underdeveloped countries often turn to a concept
foreign to our own: risking life is worth gaining life.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

While the Galapágos is one of those most biologically
diverse places in the world, there's even more of that diversity waiting to be seen just below the coastline. Luckily for me, just off the coast of San Cristobal is what some
believe to be one of the best snorkeling and SCUBA diving spots in the world.

Jutting out of the water is Kicker Rock, otherwise known to
locals as León Dormido or The Sleeping Lion. There, travelers can swim with
many sea creatures including green sea turtles, eagle rays, sharks, and
dolphins, not to mention an expansive variety of fish.

Although I am a relatively strong swimmer, my snorkeling
experience isn’t anything to brag about. The few times I had ever put on a
snorkel mask and flippers were in the lakes around my hometown, where the
diversity of species to see is lacking to say the very least. With that being
said, I felt as if I could not have been more lucky to have my first real
snorkeling experience in the Galápagos.

After checking out my wetsuit, flippers, and mask, I boarded
a boat with two other girls from Jatun Sacha. Through pre-trip research, I knew
that if I went snorkeling at Kicker Rock there would be a very good possibly I
would be swimming with sharks. However, I have to admit that being mere minutes
away from that possibility made me slightly nervous. Luckily I wasn’t the only
one on board with this fear, and our tour guide assured us we had nothing to
worry about.

The extraordinary marine ecosystem of the Galápagos is due
to the various currents that flow through the islands. The mixture of tropical
and cool water from these currents bring many rich nutrients to the surface.
Many fish come to feed on the nutrients, and in turn, many sharks come to feed
on the fish. Because of this, there is no competition for food. Most importantly
to me and other swimmers, this means sharks are not hungry enough to try to
take a bite of a human. Still, nobody wants to be the one person who’s the
exception to the rule...

Either way, as soon as I jumped from the boat to the water, any
concerns I previously had were immediately washed away. I can now say for
myself that the old adage about the ocean being a whole other world has a lot
of truth to it. With your head in the water, most sounds of the outside
world fade away.

The first thing seen gliding below me was a giant eagle ray.
I previously had no idea just how enormous these creatures actually were. The first one that peacefully glided below me must have been as wide as a minivan is long.

Soon after that, out guide pointed out a couple of sharks
swimming deep below us. At first they were difficult to see, but then the guide
began gently slapping the top of the water’s surface.

The light clapping sound
was almost like a signal to the nearby sharks, and soon there gathered what
must have been close to fifty Galápagos and white finned sharks below us. They
remained deep enough to keep a safe distance, but the nervousness I had
previous to entering the water remained somewhere above the surface. At this
point, I only felt a sense of wonder.

While swimming with sharks is always a cool experience to
have, my favorite part of the snorkeling experience were the sea turtles.
Whenever I spotted one, I always found myself straying from the group in order
to get a closer look.

As time went on, I became increasingly comfortable in my
surroundings. Soon, I was diving down as deep and as long I could. More than
anything, I wanted to get a good shot from my GoPro of nearby fish, turtles,
and eventually sharks. I must admit as comfortable as I became, swimming
toward a shark still left me with a feeling of apprehension when the reality of what I was doing crossed my mind.

No matter what nerves I previously had, snorkeling ended up
being one of my most treasured experiences from this trip. Seeing an occasional
turtle or fish surface for a brief second from the deck of a ship can be
exciting, but it doesn’t even begin to compare to the incredible world that
lies just below the water’s surface.

Monday, January 20, 2014

I feel as if when you make a trip to the Galápagos Islands,
the one thing you can’t return in good conscience without having seen are the
giant tortoises. On my fifth day, I finally got to cross that event off my to-do list.

Before the arrival of humans, San Cristóbal was home to two
different subspecies of giant tortoises. One of these subspecies could be
found on the south end of the island, but unfortunately became extinct in 1933 due to
extraction by whalers in previous centuries.

The other subspecies of tortoises (Geonchelone Chatmensis) are located on the northeastern end of the island. They
have been a little luckier in their fates. These tortoises are
estimated to have a current population of around 1,400. Although that number
may seem high for such a small area of the world, these tortoises are still
listed as "vulnerable" on the endangered species list.

As vulnerable as they sill may be, this population would surely be far less without the help of the Galapaguera de Cerro Colorado; San Cristóbal’s tortoise reserve and breeding center.

The Jatun Sacha crew headed up to the
Galapaguera after a few hours work at the station's base camp that morning. The
area immediately around the Galapaguera is rather sparse, and so we spent the
first part of the afternoon replanting and watering special endemic plants to
help restore the area back to its natural habitat. Like all the work at Jatun
Sacha, this was no easy task. The area is naturally dry, and we had to use a
pickaxe to dig the holes in the ground. Watering these plants was no easy task
either. We had to fill up jugs with water from a trough, and lug the heavy
containers a good distance to get to the different plants before we started the
process over again.

Once we were finished, we were rewarded with a
break and a visit to the Galapaguera itself. The reserve includes an
interpretation center, breeding center, and interpretive trails to walk and
view grown turtles in their semi-natural habitat.

With my camera in hand I set off up the first
trail, and a short while later came across the breeding center itself.
Galapagos tortoises mate once a year, and after that, each female tortoise lays anywhere from 12-16 eggs. Park rangers go out and collect these eggs once
they are laid and bring them to the Galapaguera where they are placed in a dark
box for 30 days. After that first month, the incubation process begins, and
continues for about 90 days until the eggs hatch. The baby tortoises are then
transferred to growing pens where they will remain for the first two years of
their lives, until they are big enough to fend off most predators in the wild.
They are then transferred back to their exact nesting spot, and live the
remainder of their lives in their natural habitats.

If I wasn’t aware the baby tortoises I was
looking at were of the Galápagos variety, I would have never guessed they would
eventually become the giants their parents are. All of them were small enough
to fit in the palm of my hand, (had I been able to hold them, which I was not)
but have the potential to reach up to 880 pounds in their adult lives.

Although over hunting did not help the tortoise population,
this was not the main reason tortoise populations on San Cristóbal began to
dwindle. When humans settled on the
island, they brought along a variety of animals like rats, cats, dogs and
cattle. While these animals also contributed to the decline of the tortoise
population, none were as harmful to the species as the goats.

To put it one way, goats are not picky eaters. When they came
to the Galápagos they ate just about every plant in sight, including the bark
off of trees. By doing so they simultaneously destroyed the giant tortoises' natural habitat and source of food. Had the tortoises evolved to be much
faster creatures, it is possible they would have been able to compete with the
goats. Of course, their genes have yet to make that evolutionary change, and
therefore the more agile goats were able to completely overgraze an area before
the tortoises knew what hit them.

The way goats graze is also much different from other
animals. Cows, for example, graze by cutting down plants and grass with their
teeth, allowing them to regrow eventually. When a goat grazes, they pull
the plants roots completely out of the ground, leaving no possibility for
regrowth, forever changing the environment.

On top of everything, these goats had no regard for tortoise nesting areas. On their way to find new food they would completely trample eggs in nests, and crush all possibility of future generations of
tortoises.

In recent years, Ecuador's National Park Service set forth a plan to begin eradicating the island's goats.
By this point, the flocks of goats were so dense hunters began the process
by aerial hunting via helicopters. This method quickly and effectively reduced
the goat population, but the job didn't end there. The next step was to hunt the goats by land. Hunters were
aided by specially trained dogs, raised and trained within the breeding center
itself.

Finally, the next, and possibly more interesting portion of
the eradication process began. This process was known as “The Judas Project”
and used special “Judas” goats (who as you soon see were fittingly named after
the biblical figure) to continue the eradication process. Now that the goats
weren’t so densely populated all over the island, they were a lot more
difficult to find.Because of this, the
National Park Service came up with a plan to designate special sterilized goats. Fitted with a tracking collar, the Judas goats were sent back into the
wild where, being the social animals they are, would eventually find a new flock to join and through their tacking collars lead the hunters right to it. The hunters would then kill off all the goats except the Judas, and the process would begin again. Over time this method led to the eventual eradication of goats on San Cristóbal Island.

While this may not be the happiest story for the goats, the project was extremely effective in the extermination of a serious threat to the
declining population of rare tortoises. Although the regrowth of the tortoise
population has taken years, the results are continuously showing that the
numbers are heading in the right direction. What began as a problem caused by
humans is now a problem being solved by humans; a slow and steady process for
gentle giants of the same nature.

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About the Program

The Murrow Backpack Journalism project enlists smart, dedicated and curious student-journalists to travel into some of the world’s most remote regions to report on stories that count.

These student-journalists are eye-witnesses to world events. They are on-scene where and when the news is being made.

As a backpack journalist, students are outfitted with—and trained in the use of—the latest video, audio and web technology. They’re sent into the field to create television, radio, web and print news reports which are disseminated to broadcast and print organizations throughout the Pacific Northwest.